Two nights ago we watched A Star is Born with Gaga and Bradley Cooper. I had no idea about the ending - was not prepared for Bradley Cooper's character to hang himself. In the previous version, Jackson Maine (played by Kris Kristofferson) died in a car accident (still sad, but more appropriate).
I enjoyed the movie up until that point, but when the character pulled his truck out of the garage and then walked back into the garage, carrying a black, leather belt, my heart started to pound. No... no... no... I could hardly breathe - definitely couldn't watch - couldn't listen - and couldn't escape. Thankfully, Michael saw what was happening and fast forwarded, muting the sound. All I could do was look at the ground and sob. It's taken two days for me to be able to talk about it.
I plan for the big things - birthdays - holidays - events. Even though they're painful, they're not a surprise. I know I'll have to deal with them. It's the things that show up unexpectedly - the surprises - that crush me and leave me breathless - searching for a way out - some way to avoid this shattering pain. And there never is a way out.
The only way out - is straight through the middle of the pain. I know it. I'm just not always brave enough to do it - especially when it comes out of nowhere and slams me in the chest like a runaway freight train. My guard was down. I wasn't ready. I'll never be ready.
Why did the movie need to end that way? The choice to have Jackson Maine take his own life is, in my opinion, a poor one. With all of the substance abuse issues currently drowning us - with so many lost souls committing suicide - with depression running rampant, is it wise (or necessary) to romanticize suicide? The ending of this movie disappoints, to say the least - and causes me to relive the heartbreak of Greg's death.
You can be sure that from now on, I'll check the spoiler alerts for the endings of any movie I see in the future. I don't want to relive this.
I enjoyed the movie up until that point, but when the character pulled his truck out of the garage and then walked back into the garage, carrying a black, leather belt, my heart started to pound. No... no... no... I could hardly breathe - definitely couldn't watch - couldn't listen - and couldn't escape. Thankfully, Michael saw what was happening and fast forwarded, muting the sound. All I could do was look at the ground and sob. It's taken two days for me to be able to talk about it.
I plan for the big things - birthdays - holidays - events. Even though they're painful, they're not a surprise. I know I'll have to deal with them. It's the things that show up unexpectedly - the surprises - that crush me and leave me breathless - searching for a way out - some way to avoid this shattering pain. And there never is a way out.
The only way out - is straight through the middle of the pain. I know it. I'm just not always brave enough to do it - especially when it comes out of nowhere and slams me in the chest like a runaway freight train. My guard was down. I wasn't ready. I'll never be ready.
Why did the movie need to end that way? The choice to have Jackson Maine take his own life is, in my opinion, a poor one. With all of the substance abuse issues currently drowning us - with so many lost souls committing suicide - with depression running rampant, is it wise (or necessary) to romanticize suicide? The ending of this movie disappoints, to say the least - and causes me to relive the heartbreak of Greg's death.
You can be sure that from now on, I'll check the spoiler alerts for the endings of any movie I see in the future. I don't want to relive this.
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